


Tempting Curiosity

by adevinecomedy



Series: Bodyswapped Evening [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Bodyswap, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley as aziraphale, Food, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, come tasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 13:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20583599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adevinecomedy/pseuds/adevinecomedy
Summary: Crowley has an entire evening in Aziraphale's body and his curiosity and questioning get the better of him. He passes the evening exploring and memorizing every inch of his angel's body.





	Tempting Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation so to speak of my fic "Touching My Body, to Worship Yours" this time it's Corwley's perspective.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Quickly leaving the flat, Crowley wasn’t sure where to go. He was in Aziraphale’s body, and he certainly didn’t want to get caught, since that would potentially reveal their plan to survive heaven and hell’s trials in the morning. He desperately wished that he could stay and spend the night with the angel, especially considering the bookshop was gone, and he really had nowhere to go. 

He did the first thing he thought Aziraphale would do and headed to the nearest restaurant he could walk to. Entering the quaint establishment, he got a seat at the counter and perused the menu.  _ What am I doing?  _ He thought to himself as he turned to the desserts section. That’s how he always thought of Aziraphale, savoring sweets with a practically orgasmic visage. The server returned and he asked for an order of angel food cake and a small glass of brandy to accompany it. 

It was still early in the evening, the entirety of the London neighborhood seemed to be out in full force tonight. People celebrating, having a simple dinner, or generally enjoying one another’s company. He felt a pang of loneliness as he sat waiting for his dessert and his alcohol. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to have Aziraphale accompanying him. Catching a glimpse of himself in a mirror on the wall behind the bar, he had a sudden jolt of shocking realization. He was, in a way, with Aziraphale. It was more like wearing an Aziraphale suit, he supposed, but he could still watch the angel fondly as he ate after all. This brought a small bit of comfort to Crowley just as his food arrived. 

He kindly thanked the waiter in just the way Aziraphale always did, and studied the dessert in front of him. It was light and fluffy with a side of strawberry compote, and his brandy was a deep amber in it’s little tasting glass. He delicately laid the napkin across his lap and gently picked up the fork from the table before pausing. He contemplated his approach to consuming the dessert. If he spread the compote across the delicate sponge first, it would probably be the most even between bites, or he could take bits onto his fork and dip them into the compote. He didn’t often eat since there was really no need, and he certainly didn’t take the pleasure from this that the angel seemed to. 

He made the decision the spread the compote across the top of the cake sponge and eat it that way. Tipping the small vessel of strawberries and sauce, he let it drizzle across the top of the cake and gave a small lick to his lips as he had seen Aziraphale do so many times before. Out of the corner of his vision, he caught the action and shivered. He was really able to take in all of Aziraphale’s actions without worry of being caught or having to explain the intensity of his stare. He could have a lot of fun with this for the evening. 

He took the first small bite of cake onto his fork and brought it to his mouth. Watching himself in the mirror, he slowly slid the fork from between his lips and tried to recreate the savoring Aziraphale did with every morsel of food that passed between his lips. The actions were all correct, but the feeling was off. For Crowley’s tastes, the cake and compote was far too cloyingly sweet and he fought off an expression of disgust. He suddenly very much regretted having spread the strawberries all over the top of the cake. He sipped at the brandy instead to help cleanse his palette, and get the sweetness off of his tongue. 

He really didn’t understand how Aziraphale could do this constantly, let alone how he seemed to enjoy it so much. He slid the cake away from him and nursed his little drink for a time, mulling thoughts of the angel over in his head and where he was going to go next. Without the bookshop to return to, he felt a bit adrift in the endless sea that was London. He was very sad to have seen the bookshop go, but he was forever thankful that he had his closest companion back. Even if they were stuck apart for the evening. 

His thoughts drifted to Aziraphale stuck in his flat all by himself for the evening. He wondered how he was getting along in his body, and he certainly hoped that he wasn’t treating his plants too nicely in his absence. 

He finished his drink, and with a few glances around to make sure he wasn’t noticed, Crowley placed money on the table and fled, leaving the almost completely untouched cake to its fate. Out on the street once more, he made his way to the tube station and back in the general direction of the Soho neighborhood that held the bookstore. Even if the store was no longer standing, he could at least stay somewhere in the area. Maybe check in on it in the morning before heading to their rendezvous spot in the park. 

He felt very stiff as he moved. Aziraphale’s body moved quite differently than his own. The stride was very proper and without the usual rolling movements Crowley was used to applying to his walking gate. It felt completely unnatural and he didn’t understand how Aziraphale could stand it. Leaving the tube station in Soho, he found a small hotel where he could stay the night. Miraculously they had a room for him and ushered him quickly up the stairs to settle him for the evening. 

As the door clicked behind him, Crowley felt like he could truly take a moment to relax. He threw his body onto the bed and gave a hard thought to the events of the day. So many things had happened in such short order that he hadn’t really had a chance to process them. Then, Aziraphale’s insistance on doing the swap and getting everything just so with the hopes that Agnes Nutter’s final prophecy would be truly nice and accurate, it had all been a bit much. Honestly at this point, he really just wanted to get drunk and maybe sleep for another century. But, appearances had to be kept up -- at least until after tomorrow. Then hopefully he would have his body back and could take some time. Maybe take a long vacation and not think about sides, or wars, or the antichrist, or anything else that had occupied his mind for the last 11 years. 

There was one thing he wanted to occupy his time with though, and currently, he was inhabiting his body. It couldn’t hurt, could it? To take a little peek at what the angel hid under his clothing? In all the time they had spent on earth, Crowley couldn’t remember a time when he had actually gotten to see Aziraphale in any other state than fully clothed and dressed to the nines. At this point, he was fairly certain that seeing Aziraphale with his bow tie undone would constitute scandalous and inappropriate dress. 

Crowley gave another glance to the door to make sure it was locked, and surveyed his accommodations to make sure he was truly alone and safe from prying eyes. Just a bit of a look and that would be all. Then he could go about the rest of his time being satisfied in the knowledge of what Aziraphale looked like stripped bare. All he was doing was satisfying his curiosity and getting answers to some long wondered questions he assured himself. 

Crowley slid the coat off of his shoulders and draped it over the back of the chair in the room. He gave some thought momentarily to just crumpling all the clothes on the floor, but he also didn’t want Aziraphale to catch on to what he had gotten up to with his body and wrinkled clothing would likely be a dead give away. The angel had standards after all. The waistcoat was unbuttoned and quickly followed suit with the coat across the back of the chair. 

With steadied hands, he untied the bow tie at his neck, slid the bracers from his shoulders, and unbuttoned the shirt with deft fingers. Crowley glanced down to an undershirt that he hadn’t quite expected to be there.  _ Just how many layers do you wear angel?  _ He thought as he neatly removed the button up and the tie. With a steadying breath, he removed the undershirt and surveyed the body he was so eager to see. Aziraphale was soft yes, but running his hands along his chest, he could feel that there was some power there. Muscle that, given a bit of training, would come right back and be strong and fearsome in a battle. 

His hands moved to the waistband of the trousers. He moved a bit more slowly, ever curious as to what he would find here. Crowley knew Aziraphale so well, and yet this was one area where he couldn’t help but have an innumerable amount of questions. Unbuttoning and unzipping the trousers, Crowley was a bit shocked to find that the angel had made any effort really. He had fully expected to remove his trousers and underwear and find a blank slate with nothing present. He certainly hadn’t expected to find a stout and pleasant cock hanging between his legs. The more he thought on it though, the more he realized that of course Aziraphale would be the type to make an effort, any effort. He did take joy indulging in all things human after all. 

Crowley really couldn’t be bothered with removing the shoes, socks, and other clothing still left on his body. With a snap, everything was neatly placed on the table in front of the chair. He ran his hands along Aziraphale’s soft thighs and his soft stomach. Crowley’s mind imagined holding him and sinking into him like a cloud when he retrieved his body, if the angel would let him. 

Crowley felt suddenly anxious about the trial in the morning. He had so many worries that this wouldn’t work, that Agnes Nutter had been wrong about the whole thing, or maybe that they had read the prophecy incorrectly, or perhaps their respective head offices would try to deal with them in a way that would have made this swap all for naught. Crowley caught himself pacing the room with the energy of a coiled spring ready to be released. He took in a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. Relaxation. That’s what he really needed. He made his way into the bathroom and began to fill the tub he found there.

A nice, hot, relaxing bath was exactly what was in order. It would help him to focus while also taking his mind off of the possibilities of tomorrow. They had already managed to prevent the apocalypse, the rest should be simple. Then the pair of them could be left to their own devices without a care in the world or anyone to bother them. 

He caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror and nearly fell with the sudden start he had. It took him a moment to draw himself from his thoughts and remember that he was occupying Aziraphale’s body for the evening, and that he had stripped out of his clothes earlier. He quickly averted his eyes with a soft blush creeping to his cheeks. He wasn’t certain why he was suddenly feeling so bashful. He wasn’t doing anything untoward with Aziraphale’s body, simply having a bath, and you couldn’t very well do that with your clothes on. Well, he supposed you could do that with your clothes on, but it would be rather unpleasant. 

His eyes drifted back to the mirror and he took a good, long look at the angels body. This was certainly a privilege that had not been afforded to him in the past. Smooth, pale skin greeted his eyes as he studied every detail and locked it away into his memory. He was very tempted to manifest Aziraphale’s wings and take in the whole of the angelic being, but he thought better of it. The tub was finished filling and he turned off the tap. With a snap the water was a lovely lavender scented pool, ready for him to sink into and relax his weary countenance. 

This was exactly what he needed. The warm water and inviting smells of lavender helped to calm him thoroughly. His mind began to drift as he sunk further into the bath. Images of Aziraphale sprung to the forefront of his mind. The way the angel was always so excited over a new book find, how he let little moans of pleasure escape his lips as he tried new foods, the way he looked at him so fondly during their late night drinking sessions… His eyes snapped open as he felt his body respond. He hadn’t meant to do  _ that _ or  _ intended _ his body to respond that way. 

Between his legs, his cock was hard and sensitive to the stirring of the water as he moved. A small gasp slipped from his lips with the realization of how he really wanted to spend this night. He hesitated for a moment, would Aziraphale be upset if he did this? With a shake of his head he realized that there may never be another opportunity, and wasn’t it always easier to ask forgiveness rather than permission? 

He moved his hand to take hold of the shaft, and gave an experimental stroke. He saw stars, most likely due to the heady mix of the sensation and doing something oh so forbidden and tempting. In a roundabout way he supposed he was defiling an angel,  _ his _ angel, and that gave him the smallest rush of adrenaline to push him to continue his ministrations. The water began to churn and splash as he increased the speed and vigor of his strokes. He had wanted this for so long, to feel Aziraphale and hear him crying out, slowly falling apart under his touch. He moaned lustfully, committing to memory every little keen and panting sound. Next he knew, he was plummeting over the edge into his orgasm, letting out a long and bedraggled moan that made his voice go hoarse. 

At least being in the bath made cleaning up fairly uncomplicated, but he needed more. The realization that he was in Aziraphale’s body, and had his voice, gave him wicked ideas. He could hear all the things he had been desperate to hear the angel say for  _ centuries. _ Taking a deep breath he began “Crowley, I…” 

He trailed off, letting the words hang in the air. He didn’t want to hear these things sitting in a rapidly cooling pool of water mixed with his own come. He wanted to hear these words feeling comfortable, and loved, and… and… 

He pulled the plug on the tub and cleaned himself up a bit before grabbing a towel and drying himself off. He made his way back into the bedroom and settled himself squarely in the middle of the bed. With a thought, the lights were dimmed, chocolates and champagne appeared within easy access, and the bed suddenly felt much more comfortable than when he first entered the room. If he was honest with himself, the champagne was for him, and the chocolates were merely a prop, as though Aziraphale were actually here. 

He grabbed a glass and took a nice long drink of the bubbly liquid. With a deep breath, he said “Crowley, I… I love you.” 

Even though it was him saying it to himself, hearing those words directed at him, in his angel’s voice, sent a sensation akin to an electric shock throughout his entire body. His arousal was growing steadily once more as he continued to drink and whisper to himself. Crowley allowed his free hand to drift down and gently fondle himself with the words “That’s good, dear boy, please... don’t stop…” on his lips. Every fantasy he had ever had about Aziraphale bubbled up to the surface as the gentle pace of his hand began to speed. Before long, he was moaning loudly and rushing towards his second orgasm of the evening. 

As he reached his fever pitch, he bucked up into his hand impatiently meeting his downward strokes. He was desperate and frantic in his breathing and his motions as he thought  _ Come for me, angel.  _

With a whimper of “Oh yes, Crowley… I’m c… ngk...” he spilled all over his hand and his stomach. As he lay there panting in the cool evening air, he grew curious with a few passing thoughts in his mind. He wondered what Aziraphale may taste like, given all the different foods he consumes. Especially with the sweet foods, how did it make him taste? With a slow motion, he brought his sticky hand up to his lips and tentatively reached out his tongue to give a small taste. 

The taste was salty, with a hint of sweetness. Much like how a good oyster tastes sweetly of the sea. The texture left a lot to be desired, as that was more akin to egg whites. Certainly not the most unpleasant thing, but definitely not up there with anything directly palatable. Curiosity sated, he let his hand fall back to the bed beside him. 

He suddenly felt exhausted, and like he could sleep much as he had about a century ago. Unfortunately, such a long sleep wouldn’t do with the trial looming in the very near future. He felt absolutely boneless and warm enough that he didn’t care to move to clean himself up. With an easy snap of the fingers, he was as clean as he was when he left the bath. Curling up in the bed, he made himself comfortable and began to drift to sleep. Just before he lost consciousness, he couldn’t help himself and let one more whispered “I love you Crowley.” fall from Aziraphale’s lips with all the heartfelt emotion he could muster. 

His dreams were the sweetest they had been in a very long time.

The next morning, he woke feeling the most rested he had in ages. He slid from the bed and donned his clothing ready to face the trials and tribulations of the day. After checking in his hotel key, he made his way over to where the bookshop had stood. Much to his delighted surprise, the shop was standing as though nothing had ever happened. He entered and took note that there were even a few new editions of books that he was certain Aziraphale would be very pleased to have. 

This was now the second biggest reason they had to survive the day, the first being that he had to tell Aziraphale how he felt about him. It truly was the first day of the rest of their lives.


End file.
